


Don't Stand So Close To Me

by HelenaWrites



Series: Theory of Chaos [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Booty Calls, But also... doesn't, En Dwi loves him for that, Flirting, Guilty Pleasures, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Modern Era, Office Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sexting, Teacher-Student Relationship, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-08-11 00:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16465103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenaWrites/pseuds/HelenaWrites
Summary: During his lunch hour, philosophy professor En Dwi Gast receives an unexpected text from one of his students.





	Don't Stand So Close To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This little story is one of the Frostmaster fics I published in my old account last year. I edited it a bit but really not much has changed, I just like to keep my works in one place. I originally posted it as a multi-chapter work under the name Theory of Chaos, but since I'm terrible at updating and it would probably take me a while to go back to this, I decided it worked better as a stand alone. There's a second part that I'll probably be posting soon. Hope you guys like it! 
> 
> ...
> 
> Well, well, well, if it isn't self-indulgence taking hold of me again. Yep, I actually wrote this, and I still can't believe I did it. But, hey, I guess every fandom deserves it's weird Collegue AU, and I'm happy to be the one who wrote it for Frostmaster. I'm still working on The Long Way Home so this one is going to be more like a side project, among all the other one-shot ideas I have. I'll try to update as regularly as I can, though)) I want to give a special thanks to @frostmasters for betareading for me, I don't think I would have dared to post this without her telling me that I managed (somehow) not to butcher the English language.
> 
> About the Age Difference, I wrote this imagining Loki being 23 years old, and the Grandmaster around his late fifties, so to say the gape is quite wide is an understatement. I was going to put a tag for Consent Issues on this one because the mere fact that Loki is a student and the Grandmaster his professor makes their relationship problematic, but I decided against it at the last minute because I didn't want to give the wrong impression. There's a big debate going on about consent in this fandom and I just, ugh, don't want to mess with that anymore. This is not a dub/con story by any means and everyone involved is very enthusiastic about it :)

As years passed by, the Grandmaster grew more and more used to the invasion of his privacy by impertinent, overfamiliar students. Responding thick inquiries about classes’ schedules, content incomprehension and thesis developments had become something of a daily nuisance for him, even when he actively tried to avoid it.

For all their obtuseness during academic hours, the little pests were awfully clever when it came to tracking down personal information. They got to him through email, social networks, phone calls and even text messaging. In the first years of his career as a professor, he had found it flattering; to have such a handsome number of young minds seeking him out in search of knowledge and advice. However, when it became obvious to him that what motivated them was not curiosity or a pure sense of wonder similar to his own, but a vain need to obtain a quick, satisfying grade, that feeling of accomplishment seemed to turn to ashes in his mouth. The Grandmaster still answered their questions, though, knowing as well as he did about how persistent students could be when it came to getting their way against an uncooperative faculty member; going from waiting for him in rows outside his office or following him around in his lunch hours, to pledging their case to the Dean of the university.

They were unexpected, but usually easy to respond, so when the Grandmaster's phone beeped that morning in the middle of a first course lecture, he glanced briefly at the screen and tucked it into his jacket pocket. It was a normal day. He'd woken up around 11:30 and within an hour and a half had been out in the street, driving in his Red Mercedes to get to his afternoon class. Students were no more noisy than usual, and professors were going around the hallways with those familiar, grim expressions that he had learned to ignore in his firsts months in the job. When he went out of the classroom his throat hurt for speaking so long without interruption, and he headed to the cafeteria of the university looking for something hot to drink. As he took the firsts short, sweet sips of his mocaccino, he looked down at his phone to open his SMSs and almost spit out the hot beverage all over the coffee counter.

> I want you to do me in the couch of your office.

He stared down at the text for a few moments, not understanding. It was a short, well-written message, lacking the smiley faces and weird emoticons that his students usually sent him. The Grandmaster looked around himself, half-expecting to find the smirking face of a colleague in the bustling crowd of the cafeteria - eyes shining with the mischievous satisfaction usually brought by a daring prank. He saw no one; only greeted by the grim, closed up faces of anonymous characters. Briefly, he wondered if it was only Taneleer trying to make fun of him again; he did weird things like that, when he was bored. However, as he clicked on the text with his thumb to view more information, he quickly realized that it was a number he recognized, even though it wasn't in his contact list. A student's number. Not someone he saw regularly on classes, but one of the seniors that he was advising about their thesis - Loki Odinson. He frowned down as the phone beeped again, and as he read the second text he felt a strange expression, halfway between amused and incredulous, taking over his features. 

> I want you to grab me and kiss me - rough and relentlessly. I want to know what it'd feel like to have you inside me. 

The Grandmaster stared, feeling acutely aware of the crowd of people moving around his table; as though afraid that with a glance down they would guess at the content of his phone and take matters straight to the Dean's office. His boss was not particularly intimidating, and normally if he put enough effort in it he could be charming enough to get easy leeway out of her, but when it came to students things were always more complicated. He'd been a professor for a long time now, and knew by experience how much damage something as innocuous as an inappropriate text message could cause to his career. Colleagues had been fired for it, now and then; only a few of them unjustly. For a moment, he wondered if he should just ignore the messages. Nothing good could come out, surely, of responding to such taunting. Still, he found himself pulling out the keyboard of the phone and answering back - the corners of his mouth slightly turning downwards the only sign of his displeasure. 

> This is, uh, really not funny.

He sent the text and put the phone aside, taking a long sip of coffee that burned his tongue unpleasantly. This was a bold move, even for a senior student. The fact that university campuses were fertile ground for the most senseless, oddly elaborated pranks students could come up with in days of boredom was not lost to him. Back in the 80's, when he'd been a young and careless freshman, always eager to unbalance the artificial order teachers and administration workers fought to maintain, he had many times pulled tasteless jokes on figures of authority he hadn't found to his liking. The Grandmaster had never been at the receiving end of one, though, and it was a turn of events he didn't much appreciate. Shaking his head, he pulled out a pencil from his suitcase and idly wrote some loose ideas he had for the subject of his next lecture on the edges of a napkin. There were still 20 minutes left for the next period to begin. His phone beeped two more times as he sat there waiting, and the Grandmaster refused to look down at it until he finished his beverage; the frown between his eyebrows deepening with every beep. As he unlocked the screen to read the messages, he tried to ignore that playful, easily swayed part of him that was eager to see what else was written. 

> I want to get on my knees for you and take you in my mouth. Hard and slow.
> 
> I want to see the face you'll make, when you feel my tongue around you.Hb

Growling under his breath, the Grandmaster quickly typed "Srsly, stop it" and buried his head between his hands, angry at himself for letting a few alluring words get to him in such a way, evocative as they were. This was inappropriate beyond measure, and most likely meant to be some type of dirty joke made at his expense, but he would be lying if he said that the texts were not, at the very least, distracting. The fact that Loki Odinson was a rather distracting specimen himself didn't make things any easier for him. His bright, awfully clever green eyes had made him trail off and stare with admiration during their evaluations more than once, and whenever he left his office the slow, careful elegance of his every step had the Grandmaster staring after him with yearning. He felt the corners of his mouth turning downwards, realizing that his careless behavior might as well be the reason he was receiving these messages now. It hadn't even occurred to him that the boy might be able to notice his silly infatuation; let alone try to use it against him. He was mentally reviewing his last encounters with Loki, trying to find any gesture on his part that could have giving him away, when he was startled by his phone beeping yet a fourth time.

The Grandmaster stared at it for a few seconds, almost afraid of what he would find in there. He picked it up against his better judgement and read the text.

> I'm in your office. I can do more than talking, if you feel like testing me.

His face twitched. A photo came along with the message - a particularly... compromising one. The Grandmaster took a deep breath and put the phone aside, leaning heavily against the back of his chair. There were many plausible reasons for a student to be sending this type of messages to a professor who had a frighteningly big influence on the final outcome of his thesis, and none of them were particularly nice. In the best case scenario, the boy was wiping tears of laughter from his face along with a few friends somewhere around the campus, and nothing serious would come out of it unless he decided to inform the Dean about it. The fact that rumors about his sexuality had been spread around his workplace was not something to be glad about, he guessed, but he'd never been particularly quiet about what he was. In the worst case scenario, Loki feared for his final note and was willing to sleep with a professor he suspected to be homosexual to save it. It was a rather troubling thought.

The Grandmaster looked down at his clock and then back at the phone; the bold invitation of the last message ringing in his ears time and time again. He had his next class in ten minutes, and he had to pass by his office in order to get there. There was a dismal sensation in the bottom of his stomach that he belatedly recognized as nerves; the feeling was rather easy to ignore, however, when faced by the warm, overwhelming excitement stirring inside him, somewhere below his waist. It was not the first time he found himself facing such a situation. Female students, in the past, had offered themselves to him in order to elevate their grades. He had turned all of them down, for obvious reasons. This proposition, though, was the first of its kind, and he wasn't sure what he wanted to make of it. He knew, obviously, what his position as a professor require him to do, in such a situation, and a part of him wanted to hear that grounding, senseful part of himself and forget everything about these silly texts. But that photo was rather easy to look at, Loki had a subtle, eloquent way of phrasing himself that pulled at his inner-strings and he'd never been very good at resisting temptation when it came crashing in his life like this. He imagined having that young, lovely treat kneeling before him on the burgundy carpet of his office; a small, conspiratorial smile crossing sweetly pink lips, and he felt his conviction grumbling down around himself.

The Grandmaster licked his lips, pulling the keyboard of the phone again in an impulse, and then hesitating; suddenly wondering what he'd meant to answer. It took him a few minutes of blankly staring at the screen before, finally, daring to write back a response.

> Don't move. I'm on my way.

He typed with quick, nervous fingers and turned off the phone as soon as the message was sent. As he stood up from his chair and exited the cafeteria, he felt light-headed and oddly stiff; ridden by a heady, mysterious force that didn't allow him to think properly. He could get away with it, if he was careful. It wouldn't be the first time he deserted from a lecture without previous warning out of a whim, and the administration ladies already knew him too well to make a big deal out of it. His students would get a free hour out of their tight daily schedule, he would get to have some fun times with someone he'd been fantasizing about for a while now, and he could see to it that Loki graduated with the best grades of his whole course if that was what it took. _We all get our piece of cake, don't we?_ he thought wildly, crumpling down the paper cup of his mocaccino and throwing it away in the nearest trash can.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, the problem with walking all the way from the cafeteria to his personal office was that it gave the Grandmaster a fair amount of time to reflect on what he was about to do.

Walking through the well known path flanked by over excited footballers and stressed out students, waving at acquaintances whose names he had forgotten but still remembered by face, he was suddenly grounded by the feeling of familiarity in his surroundings - as though a calm outside force were slowly making its way through his convulsed thoughts to make him see reason. He couldn't do this. Loki was his student and at least thirty years his junior, if not more; not to mention there was nothing ethical about sleeping with someone whose professional future rested in his hands, even if the offer hadn't been made as an attempt at bribery. The closer he got to his office, and the longer he pondered on the texts that had been sent to him, the more convinced he felt that writing back in itself had been a bad decision. Loki was a wild card and a trickster at heart, and despite the obvious dislike he seemed to feel towards football, loud partying and other activities most people in campus would consider of the masculine kind, to his knowledge he'd never been involved with another man and he'd never given any indication that he wanted to do so, let alone with a professor. Perhaps his first guess had been correct, and Loki was just messing around - for reasons comprehensible only to himself. The photo was taking it a bit too far, maybe, but young people were surprisingly carefree about that sort of thing, these days.

With a sinking feeling lingering at the bottom of his stomach, and hands trembling slightly in something that wasn't quite anticipation, the Grandmaster opened the door of his office and stepped inside, half-expecting to find it empty.

It wasn't.

Loki looked up from a thick philosophy book he'd been idly leafing through, and calmly leaned against the back of his chair - a small, indecipherable smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was sitting on the chair of his desk, seeming at ease and oddly relaxed, given the circumstances. He was fully clothed, unlike the photo had first suggested, and upon taking a quick glance at him and at the office around them, the Grandmaster realized that it had probably been taken in a different place, at a completely different time. He swallowed thickly, wanting to speak but unable to come up with any words. Loki wore a dark turtle neck that enhanced his sharp bone structure, and white formal pants that revealed the beginnings of his ankles. His hands were covered in thin, elegant gloves of the same color, and his short black hair had been pulled behind his ears. He didn't seem surprised, concerned or even troubled by the Grandmaster's sudden arrival. If anything, there was a shine to his eyes and a tilt to his head that made him look almost pleased. "Good afternoon, professor." He said mildly, putting the book aside.

"You got a lot of nerve, don't you?" The Grandmaster began, closing the door behind him and turning to look at his student with a deep frown on his face. Far from seeming affronted by the disapproval in his tone of voice, though, Loki seemed amused by it; the little smile on his face only growing by the second. It was an infuriating gesture. He would have said something else (definitely should have) but suddenly Loki was standing up from his place at the Grandmaster's desk, step slow and measured, and seeming all too confident in the way he held himself. “What, what are you even thinking? Do you know what could happen to you if someone saw those texts? What could happen to me?" He tried, not sure whether he was trying to reason with the young man before him or with himself. His mouth felt dry, and that heady, mysterious force from earlier was pressing down on him again; clouding his thoughts; making his body tingle with anticipation. Loki was already advancing towards him, taking his time in breaking the distance setting them apart. At least he was standing before the Grandmaster - his expression determined and his bright, green eyes fixed on him with what could only be described as unadulterated boldness.

"Then we ought to make sure no one sees them, yes?" Loki said, placing his hand gently over the Grandmaster's chest - the thin silk of his white gloves a deep contrast with the thick fabric of his grey sweater. If he had been a better person, the Grandmaster would have shaken him off immediately; _he_ would have scolded at the young, presumptuous man for his audacity, lectured him on ethics and respect for about twenty minutes just to make a point, and at last ordered him to leave his office. He was bad at resisting temptation, though, he always had been, and it wouldn't be the first time he let a feisty, pretty thing guide him into a hazardous adventure against his better judgement.

Loki smiled pleasantly at him, slowly reaching behind him with his free hand to put a lock on the door. The Grandmaster leaned back, suddenly feeling as thought there wasn't enough air in the room. Loki's hand slid lower without hurry, making small shivers run through him despite the layers of clothes separating them. It stopped over the soft black leather of his belt, lazily fiddling with the metal buckle in a silent invitation. He inhaled sharply, and amused green eyes bored into his, as thought daring him to make a move of his own; either pull him closer or push him away.

With his other hand, Loki ran his fingertips lightly over the Grandmaster's collarbone, making him press his lips together in consternation. "There's no need to look so grim. It was an invitation, merely. You could always say no." He said, moving a hand up to rest over the Grandmaster's shoulder - his movements still deceptively slow. He caught it easily, gripping at it with more force than what was necessary. Loki's smile only widened, tilting his head to the side in a curious gesture; as though he were studying the reactions of a spooked, rare animal. Reluctantly, the Grandmaster let go. Loki gripped lightly at his shoulder pats and pulled at his jacket, letting it fall to the floor and pool around their feet. He struggled not to make a sound as the kid slid down his body and knelt on the soft carpet before him - the sound of shifting clothes the only thing that could be heard in the room.

“You eh, you really, really shouldn’t…” The Grandmaster laughed nervously. He felt lightheaded; almost overwhelmed by that well-known warmth in his lower stomach that usually came with dangerous games and forbidden pleasures. He caught Loki's eyes and only stared at him for a moment, unsure whether the battle of wills currently waging inside him could be seen from the outside. Loki glanced back at him with confidence; as though he were trying to show, with his eyes alone, how proud he was of his own audacity, how utterly unashamed he felt of his own proposition. The Grandmaster's knees shook. He reached out and twisted a hand into Loki's curly black hair, allowing him to undo the buckle of his belt and lower his zipper.

Elegantly removing one of his gloves, Loki took his member in a large, warm hand and pulled it out of his pants; looking all too pleased as he realized that he was already half-hard.

The Grandmaster all but trembled as he felt a wet tongue pressing against the head of his cock, lightly tasting it for a moment before starting to slowly circle it. Loki's hand didn't let go of him - stroking him in a steady rhythm that made him close his eyes and let his head fall against the door behind him. The boy explored the skin of his member thoughtfully, taking his time; he dragged his tongue all over the root of his shaft and made his way to the tip, stroking swiftly here and there, coating him in a thin layer of saliva. He went down again, and caught the side of his cock between his lips, refusing to break eye contact as he earnestly sucked on it. The Grandmaster groaned, feeling any lingering hesitation fade away in this new sea of sensation.

The hair sliding between his fingers felt soft and pleasant, and it complied easily when he moved his hand forwards to cup the back of Loki's head. He hesitated for a second, and then moaned lowly as he pushed to insert himself in a hot, pliant mouth. He panted harder, biting his lips to keep from cursing, as Loki took him deeper and then pulled back, pushed deep and then pulled back, his tongue lightly teasing the skin of his member and creating soft, slurping noises that in the quietness of the room sounded obscene and awfully loud. The Grandmaster relished in the soft pressure around him; wanting to buck his hips forwards to take control of the situation and only catching himself at the last minute. Loki was lazily lapping at his slit with the tip of his tongue, his hand squeezing the root of his shaft with light fingers.

Suddenly, the boy made an ugly gagging noise, retreating and then pushing forward again - forcing himself to swallow him deeper. The Grandmaster noticed, though, and reluctant as he was to pull away from the welcoming heat, he used his grip on Loki's hair to still him; making him stop his ministrations. He took a step back, creating some distance between them and allowing him to catch his breath. Loki stared up at him with a slight frown on his face, seeming confused by the action. He shook himself quickly enough thought, wiping a thin trail of saliva from his chin with the back of his hand and giving him a lopsided smile. "I realize that to be disrupted in this way during work hours might be something of an inconvenience for you, but I couldn't help myself." He said, idly untying the laces of one of his shoes. The Grandmaster frowned as he saw Loki take him by the ankles to retire his footwear, placing it aside and taking care of pulling off his socks as well. How odd. He remained silent, thought, entranced by the way the boy kept looking up at him; smiling slightly and refusing to break eye contact. "It had to be in your office. I've fantasized about it for far too long."

"Jesus, you... you are killing me here, sugar." The Grandmaster said, sounding out of breath. He let go of Loki's handsome curls and cupped his face with a rough, wrinkly hand; caressing with his thumb the soft skin of his cheek. Loki went entirely unresponsive for a second, staring up at him with the wide, expectant eyes of a child waiting to be struck. Even more odd. He relaxed after a few moments, though, and leaned into the touch, eyes lidded in contentment. The Grandmaster pressed one of his fingers against soft, pink colored lips, as thought asking for permission, and was delighted by the slow, sensual way Loki parted his mouth to give him entrance. He sucked his index finger eagerly, tongue flicking around it in a rather promising way, and the Grandmaster could feel the quiet humming of desire settling on his muscles, making him restless. Loki took a second and then a third finger, thoughtfully coating them in saliva - giving them no less attention than the one he'd given to his member. He hummed around his hand loudly, seeming strangely pleased by the chore he was performing. When he let go of them, he looked up and arched an eyebrow with great intent - head pointing delicately towards the couch at the other side of the office. The Grandmaster understood what he meant without having to ask. He'd read the texts, after all.

He knew he was being rough later, when he put his hands on Loki's slim but firm chest and shoved at him, making him fall on his back over the old black chesterfield, but at this point he was too far gone to suppress the impulse. It didn't seem to bother Loki particularly. He smiled up at him wickedly, opening his thighs and slightly rising his knees in the air, as if to show his eagerness. The Grandmaster helped him undress himself, undoing the buckle of his belt and pulling at the hem of his pants; doing his best not to look desperate. Now naked from the waist down, the mere sight of him made his mouth water in excitement; his fingers tickling with the need of exploring creamy, pale skin. He settled himself over the boy, prompting him to spread his legs wider by slightly pushing at them, and for a moment he limited himself to stare; drinking in the image of firm, long limbs closing in around his waist; of the swollen, needy organ silently asking for his attention with a buck of the hips, and the small, welcoming knot of flesh below his balls, waiting for him to make a move. It was overwhelming, just to stare at the body before him, let alone touch it.

Instead of yielding to the temptation, his hands moved upwards to grip at Loki's sweater, revealing strong, firm muscles that were not quite so visible beneath layers of clothe. Loki licked his lips expectantly, allowing him to retire his garments as he pleased. The Grandmaster placed a hand over his chest and teased a nipple with the tip of his nails - enjoying the way it grew harder under the light touch.

He knew he shouldn't want this; he knew that what he should be doing is talking some sense into his much younger, impressionable student; acting like the adult he was supposed to be. However, none of that seemed to matter at the moment; what mattered was the salty smell of sex radiating from Loki's body, the heady pleasure building up in his low stomach, and the way beautiful green eyes laughed at him from below, almost daring him to continue what he'd started.

He reached between Loki's legs and he got a low, pleased growl in return; a mild push against his hand as he closed deft fingers around the shaft. His thumb came up to draw concentric circles around the engorged head of his cock, making the boy arch his back against him in a silent plea for more. The Grandmaster felt a rush of excitement travel through him, feeling himself growing harder at the sight of Loki throwing his head back and exposing a pale, long neck. It felt amazing, to have someone like this; to engage in this type of things with someone much younger and prettier, and still be able to make them pant and writhe in pleasure beneath him. "I thought I was very clear about what I wanted." Loki said suddenly, grabbing him by the back of the head to pull him closer. His voice was gruff and impatient - his hips pushing against the Grandmaster's hand insistently. "I'd very much like to feel you inside me, now."

"Impatient, mmn? All fine, we're, uh, we're getting there." He said, leading his other hand, still sticky and coated in saliva, to the small orifice between the boy's legs. Loki moaned deep and guttural at the sudden intrusion, his fingers ranking through the Grandmaster's soft, silvery hair in an absent gesture. "I don't suppose you have..." He began, slowly introducing one finger and then retreating, only to push forwards a few seconds later. Inside everything felt soft and warm; a lovely pressure that only seemed to add fuel to his desire. He was patient about it. Saliva was not an ideal lubricant, and it'd been a while since he was desperate enough to prepare a lover in this way; the least he could do was try not to be too rough about it. Loki stared at him for a moment, seemingly not understanding his question, but a moment passed and he gestured at the discarded white pants laying on the floor, telling him to search in the right pocket. _Oh, great_. He put on the condom in a hurry, idly touching himself with one hand and using the other to open Loki up - trying to follow the cues of his writhing body and the rough sounds escaping his throat. He stroked him deep and thoughtfully, loving the way Loki's quiet, controlled nature was slowly transformed by the promise of physical pleasure.

The Grandmaster parted his legs wider in a haze, feeling his member throbbing in a strange, burning pain after spending so long without release. He bit hard into his lower lip, trying to ground himself, and made his way into Loki's warm entrance in a sudden, harsh thrust.

The boy breathed in sharply, muffling a shout between clenched teeth, and curled his arms around his shoulders as he began to push in and out of him; going all the way out and then thrusting back, nice and deep. Loki made a short, wounded sound, and the Grandmaster chided himself, passing a hand behind his back to draw him closer and press their bodies together. _Be careful_ , he reminded himself, licking the pale neck before him with a warm tongue. _He's not some rent boy you got for yourself at a shady nightclub. You gotta be careful_. He slowed his thrusting, beaming at the way Loki moaned in appreciation - his legs moving upwards to circle his waist, ankles locked together at his lower back. The Grandmaster cradled the back of his head in his palm, gripping slightly at the root of his curls to keep him from looking away. It was fascinating, how eyes usually so sharp and cataloguing looked when filled with lust. He traced the corners of Loki's mouth with his thumb, trembling just by remembering that only minutes ago he'd been inside it. The boy looked up at him with faint amusement, parting his lips to suck the digit in, gaze never leaving his as he surrounded it with his tongue.

"Wow, you're just..." The Grandmaster murmured, shifting to take a hold of Loki's calf and placing it over his shoulder. He let himself to be moved without complain, seeming unaffected by the situation despite the deep flush that kept spreading through his face. "You're so- so pretty. How are you so pretty?" He asked, panting, but it seemed that was a secret Loki was not willing to reveal, for he only smiled up at him in return; this time a quieter, less teasing gesture. He looked unrecognizable like this; the clever, self-contained student he had admired from afar for months now was gone, leaving behind a sinful, otherworldly creature - red-faced, hair wild, pale skin covered in a thin layer of perspiration. Finally finding a rhythm, the Grandmaster gripped at Loki's hips harder, one of his hands travelling down to wrap around his cock again. The body beneath him tensed immediately, squeezing him tighter, and he instinctively curled around it, feeling himself falter at the pleasure running through him. Loki pushed his lower body upwards, inciting him to go on, one of his hands clutching tightly at the back of his neck, and the other one resting over his shoulder.

There was something primal about the way he moved - a sort of desperation in the rotation of his hips and the tightening of his muscles around hard flesh. He'd gotten a lot of looks from Loki in the few months he had been tutoring the progress of his thesis. Sometimes the boy looked at him with a mild curiosity, often after he made yet another of the obscure philosophical japes Loki seemed to understand but not find amusing at all; as though he were a strange specimen, to open up and be dissected. Sometimes, he stared at him with annoyance, seeming almost offended as the Grandmaster told him that he needed to organize his ideas better before further developing his work. Sometimes, it must be said, Loki looked at him with awe and wonder, seeming delighted to hear his ramblings about chaos and creation, about the subjectivity of things and the ambiguous morals of modernity; thrilled by conversations that most students and even some professors found tedious. But he had never looked at the Grandmaster like this; as thought reality itself had faded away from his grasp, leaving behind only him and the slow, restless thrusting of his hips; his tongue drawing intricate paths across his neck and chest; his hand stroking him in a loose grip that made Loki growl in need.

"Come on, darling. Come for me." The Grandmaster said, lips closing around a soft earlobe; biting in only hard enough to make it sting. He was moving faster now, deeper; squeezing Loki's cock with more insistence. His ears were filled with deep, lovely grunts as he pushed forward, hungry and impatient in his search for release - nose buried deep in waves of curly, black hair. He could feel his orgasm building at the bottom of his stomach, and he shoved into that sweet, welcoming warmth more urgently; loving the way Loki opened his legs even wider, the picture of compliance and encouragement. He started babbling at some point, not entirely aware of himself as he told the boy how much he'd waited to do this; how many times he'd wondered what it would feel like to fill him up and make him scream in pleasure, how tight and hot his ass felt, how much he wanted to come inside him. Loki exhaled deeply and let out a long, suffering breath - his whole body tensing as he came in the Grandmaster's hand. He closed his eyes tightly, wet lips slightly parted as his orgasm washed over him; pleasure and relief making his usually hard, unquiet expression softer. The Grandmaster lazily worked him through it, squeezing him here and there, making pressure in the head of his cock with his thumb.

Even as the last spasms running through his body began to subside, and Loki just laid down over the couch, seeming content and oddly quiet, the Grandmaster didn't stop moving. He kept going, hitting time and time again that sweet spot that even now made Loki's hips buck slightly in appreciation - soft, lovely sounds of encouragement escaping his throat. Their faces were very close. He could see the way the boy's eyelashes fluttered with every wave of pleasure that went through him, how his eyes had gone soft and glassy upon finally being granted release. It was strangely intimate, to have him so close; knowing that the cofounded thrill of anticipation and lust was no longer there to cloud his thoughts. He had no idea what he did in the last moments of it; if he thrusted in a an angle that was particularly inciting, if Loki enjoyed the way he pressed his body against his chest, burying himself as deep as he could go inside him, or if there was something pleasing about the way he roughly grabbed his buttocks, spreading them as far as he could in attempt to gain more access - but the boy gave a loud, sinful shout, clenching around him in an all too intentional way, and groaned with satisfaction as his seed began to slowly fill him up.

They got dressed after that. The Grandmaster tucked himself back into his pants and pulled up his zipper, refusing to look back at his student as he headed towards the door to pick up his jacket. He could see his silhouette through the corner of his eyes, though; his long, elegant figure sitting on the edge of the couch, seemingly in no hurry to dress himself again. He looked somewhat more exposed than the Grandmaster did. Deprived of any garments whatsoever, his hair wild and disheveled and face still flushed - inner thighs covered in a white, viscous fluid. Leaning against the back of the couch, he seemed tired and sleepy; thoughtful in a way he had never seen him before, in all the time he'd known him. The sight made something stir uncomfortably in the Grandmaster's chest, and he found himself going about the room looking for the boy's clothes, desperately trying to keep his mind off what he had just done. He handed them over to Loki, gloves and everything, forcing himself to meet his gaze. The boy looked up at him, that strange, confused frown appearing on his face again as he extended a hand to take the offering. "Y'know, you didn't really need to do this. You have a, eh, very impressive thesis. Gotta, uh, well, gotta fix some things here and there but it's not like I was going to..." He trailed off, not knowing where he'd meant to finish that question. "You just didn't need to do this.”

Loki stared at him for a moment, one long, suspiciously well-shaped eyebrow raised in incredulity. "You cannot possibly think..." He licked his lips, the first sign of nervousness that he had shown since the Grandmaster entered the office, and suddenly he was glaring up at him, lips turning upwards in a bemused smile. "I did not whore myself out to win your favor. I know my thesis is good, I worked hard to make it so." He said, something cold and cutting lining his words; like a knife slicing through a piece of butter. The Grandmaster frowned down at him, not understanding. Loki did not care to elaborate, though; he awkwardly put on his underwear, staring momentarily at the mess his own orgasm had made of his thighs and legs, but ultimately deciding that nothing could be done about it. He put on his pants and sweater, and covered his hands with the pretty, white gloves once again; slowly regaining that measured elegance that he had grown so familiar with, in the past few months. "Jeez, come on, n-no need to be so sensitive. I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" Loki asked, brushing his hair backwards in an attempt to make it look more presentable. He was not staring at him anymore, instead focusing in gathering his few belongings to quickly take his leave. As he was grabbing his raincoat, ready to put it on and venture outside, the Grandmaster approached him and took him by the elbow, making him stop to look up at him. "I didn't mean to, like... insult you or anything, alright? I'm sorry." He said, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't fathom why Loki Odinson would want to use him like booty call, of all people, but he seemed offended enough to make him consider that his first impression had been mistaken. Loki stared at him for a moment, seemingly debating whether he should dim that with a response or simply shrug him off and walk away.

"Do you usually think that people are trying to get something from you, when they say they want to sleep with you?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. The Grandmaster felt his lips tugging upwards and fought to suppress his smile; not warning to further upset his student. _You stop it right there, old man_ , a small, barely audible voice told him in the back of his head, _you had your fun for the day, did you not? Just, uh, tell him to leave and be done with this_. He raised a hand and brushed aside an offending black curl from Loki's forehead, tucking it behind his ear. The boy visibly struggled not to let his pleasure show, but he could tell by the way his eyes lit up and how the corners of his mouth mildly trembled that he enjoyed the small gesture.

"When they are young and pretty like you? Yeah, it- it crosses my mind." He said, making something funny, almost self-deprecating with his eyes and mouth that, at last, made Loki laugh out loud. He beamed internally, feeling stupidly proud of himself, for such a small feat.

"Well... I wasn't." Loki's smile seemed more natural, this time; small and easy, similar to the ones he was used to see during their evaluations, even if there was something about it that seemed a bit off. A certain shine to his gaze that hadn't been there before. Then Loki's hand was over his chest once again, like when he first entered the office, his body leaning a little more towards him than it was necessary. The Grandmaster swallowed hard, feeling something like nerves fluttering in his low stomach, now that lust and desire weren't there to keep more complicated, grounding feelings away. "You have my phone, yes? If some day you're bored, you may text me. Return the favor, maybe?" He asked, and the Grandmaster barely managed not to squirm as he remembered how it had felt like - to have Loki's tongue nursing the skin of his cock, thoughtfully lapping at soft, vulnerable places.

"I, eh... I don't think that's a great idea." He said, feeling more than conflicted about his response - his lips suddenly felt strangely dry. Loki paid it no mind, asking him to consider it anyways. He gave him one last long, teasing smile, and put on his raincoat to go and brave the weather outside. He looked completely unaffected by what had happened, he noticed with a bit of jealousy; clothes clean and perfectly arranged, hair pushed backwards and only slightly disheveled, expression sober and carefree, despite his amusement. The door made a small thud as he closed it behind him, stepping into the hallway and leaving the Grandmaster alone in his now silent office.

Running a hand through his hair, he looked down at his clock to see the hour. His class had ended fifteen minutes ago.

 


End file.
